there was a kind of bland despair
and the sky was filled with tin foil
everything crackled and hummed and felt buried
or just out of reach.
you asked me if i’d returned that package yet and i said no
i said i was busy investigating
you asked me if i’d gotten dinner ready yet
and i said it didn’t matter
i said you couldn’t even see through the skin of my hand.
i said i had noticed a thin circle of white flames
licking the center of my hand
for which i had no explanation.
you said you had no idea what i’d just said
but that you wanted to eat soon.
i said the chicken is in the oven.
it needs twenty minutes.
give me a fucking break already.